


Black, White and Read All Over

by kore_rising



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-15
Updated: 2010-10-15
Packaged: 2017-10-14 11:01:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/148569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kore_rising/pseuds/kore_rising
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><span class="small">Rating: NC-17/M for fantasies, sex and furniture abuse.<br/>Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur<br/>Notes/Warnings: For <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/inception_kink/11941.html?thread=25757861#t25757861">this</a> prompt at<a href="http://community.livejournal.com/inception_kink/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://community.livejournal.com/inception_kink/"><b>inception_kink</b></a>:  Arthur doesn’t write in his little notebook serious stuff at all. He writes, in every single way, how he wants to fuck Ariadne. (and maybe, one day he will forget his note book and she will find it)<br/>The characters, setting and story of <em>Inception</em> are the property of Christopher Nolan and no cash is being made from this story.<br/>The beautiful graphic is courtesy of the extraordinary <a href="http://nami86.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://nami86.livejournal.com/"><b>nami86</b></a>. (If you've not seen her work before, I suggest you seek it out-it's worth it) <em>Merci, mon amie.</em><br/></span></p>
    </blockquote>





	Black, White and Read All Over

**Author's Note:**

> Rating: NC-17/M for fantasies, sex and furniture abuse.  
> Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur  
> Notes/Warnings: For [this](http://community.livejournal.com/inception_kink/11941.html?thread=25757861#t25757861) prompt at[](http://community.livejournal.com/inception_kink/profile)[ **inception_kink**](http://community.livejournal.com/inception_kink/): Arthur doesn’t write in his little notebook serious stuff at all. He writes, in every single way, how he wants to fuck Ariadne. (and maybe, one day he will forget his note book and she will find it)  
>  The characters, setting and story of _Inception_ are the property of Christopher Nolan and no cash is being made from this story.  
>  The beautiful graphic is courtesy of the extraordinary [](http://nami86.livejournal.com/profile)[**nami86**](http://nami86.livejournal.com/). (If you've not seen her work before, I suggest you seek it out-it's worth it) _Merci, mon amie._  
> 

~*~  


  
"So, I think that's all I needed to tell you." Arthur flipped his notebook shut. Ariadne nodded and started to gather up the plans they had been examining and had strewn over her work table in the process. "This seems to be coming along nicely." He smiled at her and tapped one of the models, and she tried not to let her stomach flip with pleasure at his praise.  
"Thank you. It's your level." ( _and I've been working on it for four days,_ she added to herself, _it damn well should be_.) Their eyes met for a slightly too long moment, half smiles creeping across their faces and Arthur started "Look, I was wondering..."

"Arthur!" Eames' voice suddenly ricocheted around the work shop. "Arthur! I need you right this instant!" The point man rolled his eyes. "Hold on, I'll be back." He turned and all but stomped out of her space. "What the hell, Eames?" She heard him yell back as he vanished around the corner. "Where are you?"

She sighed and carried on stacking the thin sheets. _Never quite get our break, do we, Arthur?_ Ariadne picked up the model of his level and regarded it carefully, then shook her head. _No use crying over might have been,_ she berated herself, and went to set it with the others. But as she turned back she noticed something out of place.  
Arthur's notebook, left in his haste to get to Eames, dropped on to a corner of the table. As far as she knew he never let go of it. He was always writing in it, during meetings, slouched over his desk, on one memorable occasion he had produced it during a celebratory meal for the entire team, scribbled down a line or two and tucked it safely back into his jacket. He'd even stopped during their discussion to jot down a few points. It seemed oddly out of place lying there, forgotten.

The matte black cover was pristine, like it's owner, and like it's owner something she had never really seen more than the outside of. She picked it up cautiously. It smelt of his cologne. _God, I'm so frustrated I'm sniffing his possessions now. What next, licking the inside of his coffee mug?_ She put it down again. All she had to do was wait for him to come back and say casually "Arthur, you left your notebook here." And that would be an end to it. Yes, that was all.

Ariadne walked around the table and settled at her drawing board, picking up a pencil and a ruler. She drew exactly two lines before she looked up again and her glance latched on to the tiny object, sucking in her attention like light to a black hole. What on earth did he write in there anyway? Arthur wasn't the type to keep a diary, so knowing him it was a series of flow charts, bullet points and tick boxes.

She looked down, drew another line. Then looked up again. _No_ , she said to herself firmly. _Reading other people's personal documents is an invasion of privacy._

She forced herself to look down and focus. For all of ten seconds. _He'll never know. Just a quick peek._

Ariadne cocked her head, but heard nothing. Apparently Eames' emergency had dragged them both out of the workshop and as far as she could tell she was alone. She got up cautiously and crept up to the notebook as if it was going to spring some subtle Arthurian booby trap when she got close to it. She slid it across the table, into her hand then hurried back to her drawing board. It would at least provide some useful cover should someone happen on her, she could slip it under her work or drop it by her feet then later retrieve it to hand it back to Arthur if the worst came to the worst.

She put it flat against the angled surface and took a deep breath. _I'm only going to have a quick look._ She reminded herself, running her thumb against the page edges. _Just a few pages, just to satisfy my curiosity._ _Come on Ariadne, it's just his work notes. Come on!_  
She flipped the cover open decisively. Arthur's neat hand looked back at her, black ink on the plain pages.

The first sentence was scribbled out: ~~  
 _ **Fischer.Three levels-requires coordinated kick with stimulant push. Musical cue. Eames still a jerkwad.**_~~

 ~~~~Then her name in bold letters enclosed in a box, and underneath that a neatly itemised list:

 ** _1)On my bed in my apartment. Her on top while I thrust from underneath, her wetness seeping onto me because she's so aroused. Her on top so I can watch her touch herself, make herself come and so I can play with her breasts.  
_** _  
_ _What?_ Ariadne stopped reading. _What the hell is this?_ But her curiosity tugged her attention back to the page and she continued:

 **  
_2) Me on top, her underneath me. My hands by her shoulders so I can lean over her and kiss her until her mouth is swollen. I can ram it into her hard like this while she begs me to go faster, harder. We go so hard we break my bed frame.  
_   
**   
_  
**3) Watching her masturbate with a vibrator (I'll get one if she doesn't have one) on her bed in her apartment. She's naked, I'm fully clothed. I don't touch her until she's about to come, the entire room smells of her and she's saying my name, pleading with me to.**   
_

_  
**4) Up against the wall outside the workshop, fully clothed except for opening the fly of her jeans and my pants. She isn't wearing panties and she's been teasing me all day by whispering it to me during one of Cobb's briefings then smiling whenever I look at her. I can't get the thought of her naked pussy out of my head so I end up taking her outside in the middle of the work day, picking her up and fucking her hard against the wall of the back alley while she wraps her legs around my waist to keep me from pulling out of her too far.**   
_

_**5) Over my desk after everyone's left for the night. From behind. It makes her noisy and she yells when she comes, and I keep thrusting into her through her orgasm, letting her milk me until I come**_.

 _  
**6)Licking her out while she sits on the edge of Eames' desk with her hands in my hair, stopping me from finishing until she wants me to. She ruins his work notes with her arousal and leaves her scent all over his table.**   
_

_  
**7) Anywhere in her space. Over her drawing board while she's wearing a skirt so I can just lift it up, pull her panties down and have her. Across her worktable while she wriggles, breaking one of her models as she comes with a kick of her legs. Up against her pin board, ripping her plans off when I press into her. On the floor while she lies over me so we can kiss under the curtain of her hair.**   
_

_  
**8) Licking her out under her desk while she's talking to Cobb. Using two fingers to thrust in and out of her until she grabs them and forces me to rub her clit so she can come, soaking my mouth and chin in her juices.  
**   
_   
_  
**9) Her under my desk sucking me off slowly while I try to keep working. She brings me to the edge of coming several times while I have to pretend that nothing is happening. I have to make phone calls, talk to Cobb and Eames, write notes but all the time I'm aware of her wet mouth, her pouty lips, her delicate hands on my cock. When she finally lets me come I put my hands in her wavy dark hair, look down and see her looking up at me as she swallows.**   
_

Ariadne swallowed in reality, suddenly far too aware of the sound of her heart banging in her chest. _This list...oh my god._ She felt herself start to heat under her clothes, pressing her thighs together and shifting in her seat. _He's been thinking of all the ways we could...oh my god._  
She glanced around quickly, making sure she was still alone, then flicked forward a few pages:

 **  
_34) Tied to a four poster bed. Spread eagled in a thin dress that I cut off her, then touch and finger her to orgasm. I take pictures of her for my own use later._   
**   
__

_  
**35) The above, reversed, except she cuts off my shirt and pants, then tells me to look pretty for her pictures or I won't get to come. Then she licks, kisses and nips me all over before bringing me off with her hand.**   
_

_  
**36) Up against a tree in a semi secluded woodland, both of us naked from the waist down. She's worried we'll get caught, but the thought makes us both so aroused we can't stop.**   
_

_  
**37) In the back seat of my car, her kneeling over me with her skirt pulled up and her shirt undone and my pants around my knees and shirt off. Her godawful scarf has been thrown out of the window. The windows fog up from the condensation as she rides me.**   
_

_  
**38) Up against the window of a thirteenth floor hotel room. I hold her hips and press into her from behind while she's on display to the world and I tell her. "I want everyone to know how beautiful you are, Ariadne. And that only I am allowed to touch you like this." She presses back into me and puts her hands wide on the glass as take her, using my thumb to rub her clit as I go.**   
_

_**39) In front of a mirror so we can see ourselves from as many angles as possible. She likes to turn her head and watch me being engulfed by her while she's astride me. And when we're side on so she can see me fondling her breasts and ass. I like all the variations. I like to see myself slide in and out of her covered in her moisture. I like to watch myself come inside her while she watches me. I like to watch her.**  
_  
"Oh shit Arthur," she whispered, "is this what you've been thinking about all this time?" She bit her lip and skipped forward again:

 **  
_77) In a shower, standing up, while we're both covered in soap. She's slippery and lithe when I tease her._   
**

**  
_78) In a bath. She kneels on all fours and lets me taste her first, then rocks into my lap agonisingly slowly so it feels like it takes hours for as both to come._   
**

**  
_79) In zero gravity dream. She's the dreamer, so she simply dreams our clothes off, then wraps herself around me, both hands on my ass to push me into her, and we make love for as long as the dream lasts, kissing and thrusting and groping while the room spins around us and we float in the centre._   
**

**  
_80) She makes me dress in my best suit, overcoat, Oxfords, gloves and scarf and meet her in a hotel room. When I get there she's sitting in an armchair in a skirt suit, heels and drinking scotch. She tells me to strip for her, slowly, and to give her a good show. If I don't disappoint her she may then have sex with me. I don't disappoint her. She doesn't disappoint me. We're so desperate we fuck on top of the bed covers and she keeps on her bra, garter belt, stockings and shoes._   
**

**_81) Lying on our sides in my old bed at home, trying to be quiet as my parents are asleep down the hall. We can't stop giggling because the bed creaks when we push together. It doesn't stop us both coming, and I have to kiss her to stop her making any sound._** _  
_  
"Oh..." The faint noise escaped her as her own arousal began to demand her attention. _Could I...? No, not in here!_ :

 **  
_121) In a sleeper car, trying to match the rhythm of the train to my thrusts. She's underneath me, the vibrations of the train sending us both crazy until she spasms around me in a tight fist._   
**

**  
_122) In a seat in first class, somewhere over the Atlantic while everyone else is asleep. She slips under the blanket with me, undoes my fly and then pushes me into her while I'm half awake. I let her take charge and she brings me off just by rotating her hips, squeezing and relaxing around me and stealing my mouth the entire time in one long, sensual kiss._   
**

**  
_123) On the lawn chair after we've both woken from a PASIV dream where we were having sex. She drags me on top of her and I satisfy her properly._   
**

**  
_124) In the guest room at Cobb's house in LA. She makes me take her against the door, on the carpet and in the bed so we can say we've properly christened the room._   
**

**  
_125) While she's blindfolded with her scarf. I don't speak or make any sounds until I'm inside her, having tasted her entire body from her toes to her forehead first._   
**

**  
_126) Then she does the same for me using one of my ties to blindfold me._   
**

**  
_127) Over the bonnet of my car. She leans over, puts her ass in the air then turns her head, looks at me over her shoulder and tells me too..._   
**

"Ariadne?"

She jumped, coloring hot red from her brow down to her fingertips and dropping the notebook through her sweat damp fingers. Yusuf stood in the doorway, looking at her curiously. "Ariadne, have you seen Arthur or Eames?"  
She blinked, opening and closing her mouth silently a few times while he frowned at her. "Are you alright?"

The outer door scraped open just as she was about to speak "...see, it wasn't too difficult in the end now was it?" Eames was saying cheerfully.  
"I'm filthy, Eames. How much dust was on that thing?"  
"It's an antique, Arthur. I would have thought you of all people would appreciate the veneer of age when you saw it. Yusuf!" He appeared next to the chemist, a broad smile covering his face. "What are you doing pestering our favourite architect?"

"Ariadne is our only architect." Arthur said from somewhere out of sight, followed by a soft muttered curse. "Ariadne, have you seen my notebook?" He called.  
 _Nows the moment, just give it back..._ But some other part of her answered in a clear voice: "No, sorry." _  
What? Take that back this instant!_ "Didn't you take it with you?" _What the hell are you doing? You can't just take it home and..._

He shoved past Eames and Yusuf to get into her workspace, rifling through the neat piles of plans, lifting up models and pulling aside the chairs.  
"Arthur, love, it'll turn up."  
"I need it, it's very important. It has all my...notes in it."  
"Hence the name, I understand. Look, stop tearing apart Ariadne's stuff. If she finds it I'm sure she'll give it to you. You'll give it to him, won't you?"  
She started. "Yes, I will. I'll give it to...I'll hand it back."  
"You don't understand, it's vital that I don't let it out of my sight."  
"What on Earth have you got written in there? Your tailor's home number? Missile launch codes? The recipe for the perfect vodka Martini?" If looks could kill, Arthur's would have had Eames on a slab, cooling rapidly.  
"Extremely sensitive and detailed information." He snapped.  
Eames folded his arms."Come on then, let's do a targeted search of the workshop. I know that's the kind of thing that gives you your jollies and it's blatantly not in here." He raised his eyebrows at Ariadne who felt herself nod ( _Liar, Liar, pants on fire- in more senses than one!_ She taunted herself, her hands forming into fists under the table.) Arthur shot one last, desperate, searching glance around the room, finishing on her for several agonising seconds, before he left, his entire body set in lines of tension.

She sat still for a moment, then peered under her desk. The notebook had fallen neatly into her open bag, so she quickly stuffed it in and snapped the lid closed.

Outside she heard a long silence, broken by the sound of a desk juddering over the floor in angry wooden protest as it was dragged out of place.  
"Bloody hell Arthur, does this incredible notebook have legs too so it could run under there?"

It was going to be a long afternoon.

~*~

Ariadne didn't touch the notebook again until she was safely in her apartment, tucked into bed and telling herself she should probably get some sleep. She had left her bag by her bed and, as she pattered around her room brushing her hair, changing into her night clothes, moisturising her face and performing the thousands of other tiny tasks she seemed to need to do before she could sleep, she had been far too aware of the corner of black peeking out from under the flap.

She had resolutely got into bed, switched off the light and pulled up her quilt. But in the dark the thoughts she had managed to crush under being busy suddenly ramped up to full volume. _You've done it now. You can't give it back to him until tomorrow morning. You want to see what else is in there, don't you? He's thinking about you. You and him. This is like an all access free pass to Arthurland and you're just going to lie here? He'll never know. Cobb's going to Geneva tomorrow, Yusuf's meeting a contact, Eames never shows up before eleven. All you have to do is get in before him, leave it in one of his desk drawers and he'll be none the wiser. And hey, you know he likes you now, right? Come on, one more little look. You've got a gold mine of material there and you're just going to lie here thinking about it?_

"Oh for goodness sake!" She rolled out of bed, grabbed the notebook from her bag and flopped down again, clutching it in her hand. _Come on..._ Ariadne reached across and flipped on her bedside light. It looked so innocent, a neat little black book smelling of leather, something green and a third quality she could only peg as Arthur, like warm skin and expensive fabric overlaid with a tang of coffee. "In for a penny..." she muttered to herself. "Let's see, what was he writing in our meeting today?"

She opened the back cover and turned  the pages to find the last page. Two entries:

 _  
**462) We fool around in the back of a taxi cab. I finger her pussy until she comes, then I pay the driver an extra fifty to go around the block again so she can bring me off, rubbing my cock through my pants.**   
_

**  
_463) I come back to my apartment to find her in my bed, dressed in one of my shirts, masturbating. She doesn't hear me so I stand and watch her. When she's come I undress, get on the bed with her and start to make love to her while she's still coming down, still having little muscle contractions inside her. She's so slick and wet from her orgasm that she feels incredible and I manage to make her come again._   
**

**__**Hmm, not bad. She nodded to herself. _But a good student always studies a text thoroughly,_ the voice of some long forgotten teacher prompted her _. It can't hurt to start from the beginning again, surely?_ Ariadne glanced at the clock on her bedside table. _I've got time._ She snuggled deeper into her pillows and settled in. _  
_  
~*~

Paris at 7am belongs to street cleaners, the Velib bicycle distribution lorries and people like herself, Ariadne thought with a yawn. Slinking through the grey light to work,  paper cup of coffee in one hand, bag full of guilty secrets in the other.

She had spent the better part of four and half hours with the notebook last night. Arthur's fantasty life, far from being the unimaginative place Eames so often derided it as, was as rich and varied as her own. If not more so.

He went from the conventional (sex in his bed, sex on the couch, sex indoors and in relative privacy) to the risque (a three minute wonder in a hotel elevator in Las Vegas; every part of the workshop, with and without the others lurking in the building) to the ones she had found eye widening (spanking her over his knee while she was dressed in a school girl's uniform and she called him "Sir";  dressing her in leather and making her watch him jerk off; making a sex tape) and managed to hit most of the points in between. Harlequin romance: making love on a bed covered in rose petals after licking champagne off her; furious passion in a thunderstorm; love letters filled with innuendo. Technological interventions: Phone sex, IM sex, video phone sex, sexting, dirty e-mails. Food, from whipped cream to caviare. Some were so detailed they listed the city, hotel, even the room number, others boiled down to a single sentence or two.  (She comes home a little drunk, kisses me sloppily and then drags me to bed by my tie.) Some were surprisingly tender (She says she loves me as she comes and I say ditto.) Some required elaborate costume and props (She's Catwoman, I'm Batman. She's Princess Leia, I'm Han Solo.) And some were just... _them_ , a furied collision of two people hungry for each other and being sated.

He referred to her as beautiful, lovely, sexy, gorgeous (and, in one entry, a pocket Venus; which had made her smile so hard she was still grinning three pages later.) He had called her sharp, intelligent, funny and a pain in the ass. He was rude about her scarves but complimentary about her love of color. He seemed to think she was both delicate and kick ass in one small package.  
She was his fantasy. It had been that thought above all that had driven her through all the orgasms she had given herself. Inhaling his scent from the paper as she read his words and touched her own skin, letting his images into her own head and finding herself desperately aroused by him. As she had woken, bleary with tiredness and tender under her hands, she had realised that she had never met anyone who saw her quite as completely as Arthur did, even when he was making her the star of his own private porn show.

\---

The workshop was deserted when she crept in, cautious to a ridiculous degree until she realised she was safely alone. With a sigh of relief, thanking all the higher powers she could name that she had beaten Arthur to work, she went over to his desk and dropped her coffee cup and satchel on top. A quick rummage produced the notebook and she was just reaching down to open the top drawer when she heard a sound that made her freeze, cursing the spirits she had just been thanking.

The outside door opened in a grind of hinges, a cool blast of air rushed in and there, looking straight at her, was Arthur. Tall, dark and unsmiling in his trench coat, smart shoes and neatly pressed pants. He took in her belongings on his desk, then her, then finally his eyes fastened on her left hand. The hand holding a small black notebook .

"Good morning?" She risked.  
"You found it." His expression was unreadable.  
"Yes, it was..." ( _quick, think of something! It's obvious you've just walked in. It was on the floor. In your bag. No, he'll know you took it then! On Eames' desk. In the mail._ _Come on, Ariadne, they searched this entire room yesterday._ )  
"Did you look inside it?" His eyes on her were one step off being a physical assault they were so intense.  
( _No. Yes. Maybe. No!_ ) She hesitated.  
"You did, didn't you?"  
"Yes." Her voice sounded a lot more firm than she felt.

He let the door swing shut behind him, one hand reaching back to pop the latch shut. "And what..." he started to cross the room towards her, unbuttoning his coat then slipping it off his shoulders to reveal his razor sharp suit, a matching tie, a crisply buttoned shirt, "...what did you think?" He stopped right in front of her, dropping his coat across the desk. She had to tilt her head up to see his face and she was horribly conscious of just how much taller and stronger than her he was. How much warmth was coming from his body at this proximity. How the scent the notebook carried was just a pale shadow of the real thing now she was at liberty to experience it.

"I thought..." her mouth had gone dry and she couldn't seem to stop blinking as if she was batting her lashes at him. "I thought it was very..."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Continue. You thought it was very..."  
"...very..."  
"Very? Do you want some help? A couple of adjectives? Very...disgusting?"  
"No!"  
"I see. Very...personal?"  
"Yes. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..."  
He ignored her and carried on. "Very...sexy?"  
She nodded dumbly. He leant down so his mouth was by her ear and when he spoke she felt the warm puffs of air over her skin. "Very..." he whispered "...arousing?"  
"Mmmhmm." His hands settled carefully on her waist and his mouth moved closer, so close she could almost feel his lips on her skin. "Very..." She heard his smile, "...me?" He leant back and looked at her and for the briefest second they stood perfectly still.

Then Ariadne dropped the notebook, reached out and grabbed the lapels of his jacket, bringing him down to her and kissing him as hard as she could. Every image from the previous night boiled inside her as she forced her way into Arthur's eager mouth, crushed her body up against his as he pulled her into him, her hands desperately finding and latching on to his back. He grabbed her behind and hoisted her upwards so she was forced to sling her legs around his waist but she took advantage of her position to rake her hands through his hair. 

"Can we?" He asked between kisses, nipping at her neck and earlobes.  
"Yes. Oh god Arthur, yes we can." She grabbed his tie with furious fingers and started on the knot.   
"Good." He turned around, took a couple of steps then set her carefully down on a paper strewn surface. His hands freed he carefully cupped her jaw to kiss her then let them move down, over her shoulders, finding and massaging her breasts through her shirt. "I've wanted to do this..." She interrupted him by reclaiming his mouth momentarily "...for a very long time."  
"What, kiss me like this?"  
"Yes, that too. No, I mean this." He pulled away from her mouth, trailing down her body until he was kneeling down in front of her and put his hands on her knees. "I can see from the fact that you wore a skirt today that you certainly paid attention to my notes."   
"I've always prided myself on being a good student." She smiled down at him.

"Excellent." He gently moved her legs apart. "Lift yourself up a little." He asked and when she levered herself off the table top he slid her skirt upwards so it was around her hips. "A little more." He took hold of the waistband of her pantyhose and panties and pulled them down to her calves. He ran his hands over the naked skin of her thighs slowly, opening her so she was completely bare in front of him. "Lovely," he pressed a kiss above one knee then the other. "You're so lovely." She sighed his name in response, the last syllable stretching as he dipped his head and put a flat kiss over her exposed pussy.   
That kiss was followed by another, then a third and finally his tongue made contact with her, sliding over her folds with agonising slowness, brushing her clit before returning to it's careful, delicate laps.

"More?" He lifted his head briefly to look at her.  
"Please."  
One finger slipped inside her, shortly followed by another. His pace was calm and even, as if he was carefully teasing the sensations out of her body. He dipped in, let the tips curl and straighten gently before he pulled them back out with a soft twist, his tongue matching the rhythm as he went.

Ariadne combed the fingers of one hand though his hair then let it rest on the back of his head to keep him close to her as her hips tilted into his motions. She dropped her head back, letting the warmth and the desire inside her pool in her abdomen and seep out of her slowly, her breath coming in uneven spurts as she moaned softly. Her sounds seemed to encourage Arthur, his touch becoming firmer with each small exclamation. And the firmer his touch the more she craved it, her skin tingling for as much of him to be in contact with as much of her as possible.

She put her free hand up, wrenched her shirt open and started to stroke her breasts, scratching each nipple to a point that she could roll between her fingers, sending sparks through herself. She looked down to see Arthur watching her as she touched herself, his eyes dark and wide.  She felt him groan against her, his measured suddenly pace lost in the face of her want. His fingers were no longer curling gently, they were beckoning, stroking her inside before pumping in and out again. His tongue drew spirals over her clit, pausing briefly to lick her lips, letting himself catch the edge of the bud as he did so, before returning to it. Her hand pressed into his hair as she pushed against him, harder and hard as she could relishing the feel of his cheeks on her thighs and the hot rush of his breath over her skin.

"That's it, Arthur. That's it, that's it." Ariadne babbled as he pushed his fingers into her, grabbing her clit between his lips and sucking it into his mouth as hard as he did so.  
"Oh god, I'm coming, Arthur, I'm..." the rest of her words got lost in an inrush of breath, her body clenching around his fingers in a flood of liquid heat as she arched back, every nerve feeling like it was exploding in a spasm of sensations. Mouth, tongue, fingers all tearing it out of her in a shaking, blinding rush that made her vision flash with white as she burnt in its glare.

\---

"I don't remember reading about this." She stretched lazily against him, ignoring the sigh of paper fluttering to the floor.  
"About what?" Arthur looked up from kissing his way across her collar bones.  
"You making me come with your mouth then having incredibly good sex over your desk. Or ending up stark naked on top of your desk in our place of work at ten o'clock in the morning."  
"I admit, some of the details are a little off," he propped his head up on his hand then smiled at her like he'd just single handedly solved the unified field equations with only a pencil and a piece of paper for help, "but you're making one rather fundamental mistake. This isn't my desk."  
"It isn't?"  
"No. My desk has all our things on top of it. Plus, I would never leave all my papers out like this." He curled a lock of her hair around his fingers with the same infuriating smile.  
"So, just whose desk is this then?" Ariadne frowned.  
He pulled her back into him. "Never you mind." And silenced the rest of her questions with his mouth.

~*~

Eames liked to think of himself as an afternoon person. Being an afternoon person meant that by the time he was ready to start the day everyone else had worn off the shine, knocked off the sharp edges and generally roughed the day up a little. Besides, it made him a well balanced sort, not an annoyingly bright eyed and bushy tailed early bird, nor an intense and brooding night owl. In short, a happy medium.  
Therefore as an afternoon person he was barely surprised to see Arthur and Ariadne coming up the street from the workshop as he strolled down it. It was almost midday after all. What did give him a slight start was the fact that Ariadne was neatly tucked into Arthur's side and Arthur (in his own opinion most likely the winner of the _least demonstrative person in the history of ever, ever_ award for at least twenty nine years straight ) had his arm slung territorially around her shoulder.

"Just nipping out for lunch?" He greeted them with a smile and a cheery wave. To his eternal disappointment Arthur failed to so much as flinch. In fact if anything his arm tightened across Ariadne's back slightly. "Good morning Eames. Just starting work?"  
"Busy night last night; people to meet, palms to grease, axes to grind and all that kind of thing. You can't expect me to keep hours like yours with my duties. Good morning, sweetheart." He turned his charm on Ariadne, since it was clearly wasted on the man next to her.  
"Good morning, Eames." She chirped like the morning person she undoubtedly was, her smile bright as she snuggled into Arthur like a koala on a Eucalyptus tree. "What's the occasion then? Have you finally convinced Arthur to open his wallet and buy you a sandwich? How very romantic." She blushed a rather endearing shade of hot pink in response.

And it was in the process of admiring the colour that he noticed something ever so slightly off about the two of them, a set of minute details that swam into focus as he looked closer:  Ariadne's shirt was slightly wrinkled. Her skirt looked like someone had rolled it into a ball then tried to flatten it out again. Her tights had huge ladders in them starting under her hemline and finishing at her boots. Meanwhile Arthur's suit looked as if he'd worn it the previous day and failed to hang it up when he took it off. There were creases in the body and the knees, minute but certainly visible, his shirt was a few degrees off the pristine press he normally favoured and...were those scuff marks on his shoes? And their hair; it was as if they'd been standing out in a stiff and particularly handsy breeze. _Well, well, well_ he beamed to himself, _you pair of dirty stop outs_.

"Well, since this is a special lunch I shan't expect you back for a couple of hours, then? If at all?" He attempted to top this off with the obligatory Eames' sly eye narrow but Arthur avoided his look. Quite possibly on purpose, the obnoxious git.  
"Maybe. We'll see you later, Mr.Eames." He said placidly with the faintest hint of a smile, then swept on up the street with Ariadne securely in his grip.

\---

On opening the workshop door the first thing he noticed was that his filing system had been wrecked. Even from as far away as the door it was glaringly obvious. In it's place was a jumble of papers stacked higgledy-piggledy across the surface where previously he had had kept a very personal, if slightly anarchic, layout. "Oh no, no, no! Bloody hell, Yusuf, I told you..." He muttered furiously, as he hurried over to try and salvage order from the chaos.

It was at about this point that he noticed the second thing. The usually damp, slightly dusty smell of the building appeared to have taken on a new, slightly muskier note. "Why on earth..." he slowly said aloud to the empty room "...does this place reek of sex?" _  
Oh no. Surely not._ _Oh please, dear lord, not on my new antique writing table_. He dropped the papers he'd just picked up as if they were on fire and glowered at the mess in front of him.

"Arthur," he managed through his gritted teeth, " you are a complete and utter, extraordinarily jammy, _bastard_."

~*~  


**Author's Note:**

> A/N's:  
> "We never [quite] get our break..." is also Marion's line as Indiana falls asleep on her in _Raiders of The Lost Ark._  
>  The title is taken from a rather poor joke (Q. What's black, white and red/read all over? A. A newspaper. Thank you, I'm here all week, please remember tip your waitress.)


End file.
